Ram Singh was ecstatic the day he scratched a card at the washing machine dealership and won a calf. He was expecting a toaster. Surprised with the surprise gift, he named it Vismay. Nobody in Bilaspur, though, saw the humour in that. Vismay did calf things for a few years and progressed to cow things then on. She hung around with other cows, appeared thoughtful and never showed off while ruminating. She was a normal and mature cow in all respects and Ram Singh was pleased with the prospects.

Secretly though, Vismay was a very ambitious and well read cow. Whether the former was a result of the latter, or the other way around, one can only speculate. But en route her daily forage through the city she had found a used bookstore. There was a rather pious young fellow behind the counter there who would pick one book in very bad condition and throw it towards Vismay. He believed it brought him good Karma. On the first day Vismay gobbled up a 1986 Sports Illustrated with hardly a second glance. But eventually she made it a point to read what was thrown her way first and chew on it later. She sometimes grew impatient with Russian novels and ate it midway. Brothers Karamazov, for instance. But most books, she read till the end even if it bored her.

What interested her most was economics. She finished a hardbound version of The Wealth of Nations with lots of highlighting, in one sitting. It was an old copy that left an aftertaste, but she now realized the truth about supply, demand, money and middlemen. Keynes and Marx later, she formed some strong opinions and a hearty desire to make it on her own. She too wanted riches and a good life.

But you know how it is with cows and our society. There was nobody ready to take an entrepreneurial cow seriously. She would get shooed away from permit offices, auctions and academic circles. She would get honked at, jeered at, marked with vermillion, pushed, coerced, beaten and prayed to but not given a break. Nobody even understood her radical views in moo on the niches that could be exploited in Bilaspur’s supply chains. With dampened enthusiasm she resigned on her cause, went back to right outside Ram Singh’s home and set up a stall, for the sort of thing she was expected to do. Ambition quashed, and with a looming sense of loss, her stall proclaimed “Doodh Vismay Ka

(A tribute to amit123. If I knew enough Hindi to figure out gender, I would have written the whole thing in Hindi; and also passed seventh grade in one go.)

3 Responses to “Kausthub”

  1. the shermonster Says:

    hahahaha…also, it’s seventh standard

  2. the shermonster Says:

    From Asimov’s joke book-

    As is well known, in this thirtieth century of ours, space travel is fearfully dull and time-consuming. In search of diversion, many crew members defy the quarantine restrictions and pick up pets from the various habitable worlds they explore.

    Jim Sloane had a rockette, which he called Teddy. It just sat there, looking like a rock, but sometimes it lifted a lower edge and sucked in powdered sugar. That was all it ate. No one ever saw it move, but every once in a while, it wasn’t quite where people thought it was. There was a theory that it moved when no one was looking. Bob Laverty had a heli-worm he called Dolly. It was green and carried on photosynthesis. Sometimes it moved to get into better light and when it did so it coiled its wormlike body and inched along very slowly like a turning helix.

    One day, Jim Sloane challenged Bob Laverty to a race. “My Teddy,” he said, “can beat your Dolly.” “Your Teddy,” scoffed Laverty, “doesn’t move.” “Bet!” said Sloane. The whole crew got into the act. Even the captain risked half a credit. Everyone bet on Dolly. At least she moved. Jim Sloane covered it all. He had been saving his salary through three trips and he put every millicredit of it on Teddy. The race started at one end of the grand salon. At the other end, a heap of sugar had been placed for Teddy and a spotlight for Dolly.

    Dolly formed a coil at once and began to spiral its way very slowly toward the light. The watching crew cheered it on. Teddy just sat there without budging. “Sugar, Teddy. Sugar,” said Sloane, pointing. Teddy did not move. It looked more like a rock than ever, but Sloane did not seem concerned. Finally, when Dolly had spiraled halfway across the salon, Jim Sloane said casually to his rockette, “If you don’t get out there, Teddy, I’m going to get a hammer and chip you into pebbles.” That was when people first discovered that rockettes could read minds. That was also when people first discovered that rockettes could teleport. Sloane had no sooner made his threat when Teddy simply disappeared from his place and reappeared on top of the sugar.

    Sloane won, of course, and he counted his winnings slowly and luxuriously. Laverty said bitterly, “You knew the damn thing could teleport.” “No, I didn’t,” said Sloane, “but I knew he would win. It was a sure thing.” “How come?” “It’s an old saying everyone knows. Sloane’s Teddy wins the race.”

  3. Shermonster Says:

    You might like this one I wrote-

    Vinda was nervous today. She had applied to the academy of wizardry at Hugewarts a sister institution to Hogwarts that gave birth to the great wizard Potter. Vinda’s lineage of esteemed witches and warlocks put a lot of pressure on her to succeed, and today there was a lot of talk about success.

    The entrance test was like any regular entrance test. Create witches brew, cast the bee spell successfully and of course there was the broom race. The first two were going to be no problem at all, but the race, her broom was old and rickety, Vinda was worried.

    A week before the test however, her mother, the great witch Sandy (many men had been turned into frogs for spotting what they perceived as humour in a witch called Sandy; in fact one was turned into a meatball), had just presented her with a Broomba 10000, fastest witches broom known to man.

    Hugewart’s entrance exams were held in the school’s open field with families cheering their loved ones on. Vinda started on her brew, and at one point it looked like her spell casting wouldn’t cause the brew to boil, but a little common salt in the pot strategically and magically put there by Sandy saved this one.

    The next test came up. She had to cast a bee spell on someone. Vinda stepped up, and asked the exam moderator for a word. The moderator said “What?”. Vinda said “W-H-A-T”and passed the second test on a technicality minus any spells involving morphing.

    The last test was all that stood between Vinda and Hugewarts. She went up to her spot. Even a whole week of practice with the Broomba had not given her complete control of it. The whistle blew, Vinda took off at about 340 meters/second, which is fast even by witches standards. She headed straight for a largish tree and brought new meaning to the name Witch Tree.

    As they headed home Sandy tried comforting her little one, but Vinda was filled with rage.
    “It’s all your fault”, she yelled at the distraught mater.

    “My fault? What did I do? All I did was help, with the salt and the threatening to change your moderator to a snake the second round. Don’t you remember?”

    “It was all going well, till you tried to cheer me on and yelled go Vinda, go Vinda.”

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